


A True Love - Fairytale!Destiel

by spnxmarvel-fanfic (smartravenclaws)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Cinderella Fusion, Alternate Universe - Rapunzel Fusion, Alternate Universe - Sleeping Beauty Fusion, Cinderella Elements, Destiel - Freeform, M/M, Rapunzel Elements, Sleeping Beauty Elements, Sleeping Castiel, fairytale destiel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-01
Updated: 2019-04-11
Packaged: 2019-07-05 08:06:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 11,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15859614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smartravenclaws/pseuds/spnxmarvel-fanfic
Summary: In the kingdom of Lebanon everything was how it should be. But being the seventh child out of twelve leads to feeling neglected and escaping to the King's part of the forest. Castiel feels like an outsider to his family, like he isn't told anything.Dean Winchester is sick of being the one to provide for his family, until he meets a certain daring Prince who is the first to not be afraid of him in years.OR the one where our beloved characters exist in a world prone to fairytale magic, carrying out some of the most famous tales.Read as the two meet in a perfect fairytale world, wheres theres no threat of the world ending or people dying every week. But this is a fairytale, then again. Anything could happen.---TW!!! There are mentions and displays of abuse. Also conversations about sexuality.





	1. Chapter One

Like most fairy tales, we’ll start this story the classic way. Once Upon A Time, in the kingdom of Lebanon, there was a well-developed society, with a few villages, and a large glamorous Castle just past the forest. Inside the castle lived The Royal Family, and his greatness, King Charles I. 

 

Castiel was a prince, whom outside the Royal Family was fairly known for a middle child, but not as much as the eldest, Michael, or the youngest, Samandriel.  _ Inside _ the castle, however, Castiel was overlooked often, being the seventh child out of twelve. This caused the seventeen-year-old to step out of line and rebel from his father's wishes. 

 

“Cas. Cas! Castiel!” Balthazar shouted at Castiel, who was reading a book in their library. He always wondered if he’d ever get the time to read all of them. Looking up, Castiel saw Balthazar right in front of his face, and he jumped.

 

“Stop it,” Castiel groaned, pushing his brother’s face away. Balthazar was the same age as him, but Castiel was only three months away from being eighteen, versus the newly turned seventeen-year-old.

 

“Come  _ on _ Cassie! Ellie is getting in trouble!” Balthazar snickered, pulling Castiel to his feet. 

 

“What? Again? Did she sneak out again last night?” Castiel rolled his eyes and placed his book on the table for later, after making sure he remembered which page he was at. 

 

“Yeah, and they  _ caught the guy this time _ ,” Balthazar said with a little too much glee, already pulling a sleepy Castiel out of the room. He hadn’t been sleeping lately, and he was yet to find the reasoning behind it. But seeing his younger sister get in trouble again really was a confidence boost because then he knew how to not get caught sneaking out himself. 

 

Sprinting down the hallway laughing, the two brothers made it to their father’s throne room within two minutes, and only five glares from various people they ran past. 

 

“Anael, how many times-” King Charles, or as he preferred: ‘Chuck’, said as the two boys peaked around the door. 

 

“It’s Ellie,” Anael sneered, obviously fuming. 

 

“Anael,” Chuck said firmly. “You have got to know how  _ wrong _ it is that you are sneaking out  _ without my permission _ and let this… this  _ guy _ do things to you!” he then growled, pacing back and forth on the platform, while Anael was standing below it, scowling at her father. 

 

“How did they catch her?” Castiel whispered to Balthazar, wondering if he’d have to change his methods. 

 

“Uh, I think the guy was walking her to the edge of the forest when those hunter guys found them, and turned them in,” Balthazar mumbled back. “Now shut-up before we get cau-”

 

“Boys, I know you’re there,” Chuck said before Balthazar could finish his sentence, and he groaned. Anael’s head snapped towards the door as the two walked in sheepishly. 

 

“Would you like to tell me why you were snooping?” Chuck asked them sternly, although he had a smile on his face like always. 

 

“It’s because Castiel-” Anael started with a smirk, ready to drag him through the mud, but he cut her off.

 

“Because I don’t get told anything, so I decided to figure out what on earth is going on in this godforsaken castle,” Castiel frowned. Yeah, not getting a lot of sleep was not a good idea. 

 

“Cas, there's a reason you don’t get told everything,” Chuck sighed. Not only did he have to deal with Anael, but Lucifer wasn’t being very helpful recently either. 

 

“Oh, so you use  _ his  _ nickname,” Anael grumbled, earning a look from Chuck.

 

“I’m eighteen in three months, Dad. I think I deserve to know what's going on in our kingdom,” Castiel grumbled. “And if you’re not going to tell me, I’ll just have to figure out myself,” and like that, Castiel stormed out of the throne room, leaving his father with a broken face and siblings to figure themselves out.

 

\-----

 

“See, that's what I don’t understand, Bee. Everybody else in this goddamn family gets told everything, even  _ Samandriel  _ gets told the important stuff, and he’s  _ thirteen _ ,” Castiel grumbled to Belle in the kitchen. Belle was the closest thing he had to a friend really because technically everybody else who lived in the Castle that wasn’t staff was his family member, so Castiel spent a fair amount of time in the kitchen. When he wasn’t reading, or wandering in the woods that is. 

 

“Cas, have you ever thought that maybe, just maybe, your Dad knows that you’re sneaking out, and he won’t trust you to keep the information? What is he meant to do if you disappear one night, knowing all the castles secrets? I’m not the only one who doesn’t trust those hunters…” Belle trailed off, looking out the window that Castiel sometimes escaped from. 

 

“I’m pretty sure he knows more about me than I do, so he may as bloody well be  _ God _ ,” Castiel sighed. “I confronted him about me sneaking out in a non-obvious way, and by his response I just  _ knew _ . But I don’t understand why he’s letting me keep doing what I’m doing when he’s just scolded Anael for doing basically the same thing…”

 

“Yeah, but Anael did other stuff too to get in trouble for. She’s broken many Royal Rules, Cas. More than you have. Plus, you always stick to the Family’s part of the forest. She was found in the road section that connects the villages,” Belle explained, kneading the dough. She was in her early twenties, Castiel guessed. He knew it was rude to ask someone their age. 

 

“I guess,” Castiel humphed and sank lower into the breaking chair.

 

“I don’t guess, I know, sweetie,” she smiled at the Prince. He was so troubled, and yet he had no idea what was even in store for him. 

 

“Thanks, Bee. I’m going to go back to the library,” he said absentmindedly, standing up and walking out. He could have been anything, so why did he have to be a goddamn prince with eleven siblings. 

  
  



	2. Chapter Two

I mentioned earlier that there were a few villages in the kingdom, that were surrounded by the forest. Some people theorized that the forest was filled with monsters to keep them in, but they were nothing but bedtime stories. 

 

Dean Winchester lived in the middle village, where life was tougher than the one closest to the castle, but not so much that people were starving every night. He lived in a small house with the rest of his family, his father John, his mother Mary, his grandfather Samuel, and his two younger brothers, Sam and Adam. 

 

He had a lot of responsibilities, especially with his brothers, because Mary spent most of her time sewing, and well, John was one of the seven town drunks. So Dean had to take up their family business with Sam, hunting animals and god knows what in the forest for the less fortunate

 

“I’m going hunting, Mum!” Dean called out, swinging the hunting bag she made for him over his shoulder. There was no reply. 

 

Sighing, Dean walked out of the house, meeting Sam at the door. “Ready Sammy?” he asked his little brother, ruffling his hair with a smirk. 

 

“Deeean,” Sam groaned, attempting to straighten his hair again. “Which part are we going to today? There are no more animals behind our house,” he then asked, rushing slightly to catch up with Dean.

 

“Northside. Near the edge of the allowed hunting ground,” Dean said, looking both ways before sneaking down between to houses. Hunting wasn’t illegal as such. Samuel Campbell had asked permission years and years ago from King Charles, but it was still frowned upon by the villagers. So the Winchester’s dealt with the looks, and the teasing at schools, and snuck off to the forest unseen to help their town from beating away starvation.  _ Ungrateful little- _

 

“Isn’t that pushing the limits a bit, Dean? What if we shoot something that's on the wrong side? If we get caught they’ll-” Sam rambled, breaking Dean out of his train of thought.

 

“For god sakes, shut up,” Dean cut him off. “We’ll be fine. It’s not like we’re going right up to the edge,” he snapped, and immediately felt guilty after. 

 

They stepped into the forest, and the whole atmosphere changed. The cries of children playing were far behind them, and the brothers placed another layer of clothing on. People say that the forest is filled with monsters, but Dean only ever comes across the occasional ghost, never seeing the so-called ‘werewolves’ and ‘vampires’ the town claimed to have heard at night. Dean knew they were real, but the borders of the forest were heavily guarded against those kinds of things. 

 

After taking a moment to let their eyes adjust, they began walking again, the only sounds being the rustle of leaves and Dean’s bag banging against his back. 

 

“Hey Dean,” Sam asked, his voice low. He wasn’t afraid of the ghosts, he was afraid of a ghost sneaking up on him and killing him. That's how their grandmother had died. 

 

“Yeah, Sammy?” Dean groaned. For a fifteen-year-old, he sure did ask a lot of questions. 

 

“Is Dad going to hunt with us again? Ever since Adam started-” Sam continued, but Dean turned around to face Sam, stopping both of them.

 

“Listen, Dad has been getting further and further away from us. You shouldn’t really expect much from him anymore,” Dean tried not to growl, so it was more of an angry huffing. Adam didn’t spend a lot of time with Sam and Dean anyway, preferring to play sports with his friends. And John? John spent more time in the local bar than he did at home, which wasn’t very hard for him. So hunting was left to Sam, who was left to Dean. And boy, did he want an out. 

 

Dean kept walking to the spot where he’d remembered seeing a few rabbits. They were fat at this time of year. “This looks like a memorable tree, Sammy?” he asked him, already getting ready to carve the date into it.

 

“Yeah Dean,” Sam replied and dropped his bag next to it, then began rummaging through it. While guns were easiest to use, both brothers loved finding new ways to catch hunts. Knives were pretty good, especially the fancy one grandpa Sam claims he sold his soul for. But you had to get close or be exceptional with aiming. Sam always thought bow and arrows were cool, but Dean always told him that the large bow was unpractical. So traps and guns it was. 

 

After carving the date, Dean grabbed his own gun and started to move quickly but quietly, and despite not hearing him, knowing that Sam was doing the same. 

 

Dean felt a hand on his upper arm, but he didn’t flinch. All he did was turn his head, quietly relieved that it was just Sam, who nodded towards the left where three rabbits were twitching.

 

‘You take the one on the right,’ Dean mouthed to Sam, intending to take out the other two himself. 

 

Sam nodded, and they raised their guns, but Dean held up a hand, hearing footsteps. Dean, having been more experience, was the only one who heard them. He was also convinced that Sam was partly deaf, or as he put it: “selective my ass”.

 

He turned his head to the side, and he could have sworn he saw a flash of white in the distance. Not a ghost, but still fast. Dean let his gun fall to the side of his leg, and Sam did the same, although more confused than his older brother. 

 

“What is it?” Sam hissed, keeping his eyes on the rabbits in case they figured out they were there to shoot them.

 

“Shh,” Dean held up his pointer finger to his lips. Taking a step forward, he moved his head around, trying not to make any noise with his feet, in the opposite direction to the rabbits. Toward the King’s part of the forest. 

 

“Dean!” Sam whispered-shouted, annoyed that his older brother wasn’t telling him what was going on. 

 

“Sam, quiet,” Dean growled quietly, turning towards Sam then back again. 

 

He could  _ feel _ the gasp someone let out. It wasn’t uncommon for the King’s children to be out in his part of the forest because frankly, everybody in the village knew they were little shits. It was too small of a kingdom for secrets like that. But they were  _ royalty _ . Whoever was daring the edge of the forest tonight obviously wasn’t expecting the resident hunters to be on that line too, with a gun pointing at them nonetheless. 

 

The unknown royal peeked out from behind a tree, before quickly retreating.  _ Curious, huh?  _ Dean smirked to himself. To be honest with himself, Dean didn’t really like the royals much. He thought the whole system was rigged. This kid didn’t have anything to do with that but aimed his gun about five meters away from the tree the royal was at anyway, and fired. 

 

Not even a second later even Sam could hear the footsteps running, and he caught up with Dean. “What was it? I hope it was worth it because you’ve scared the rabbits away,”

 

“Relax, Sammy. We’ll find something else on the way back,” he smiled at his younger brother, throwing an arm around his shoulder, despite Sam being taller. “Who knows, maybe I scared a deer right into our path,” Dean grinned, picking up his bag and humming. 


	3. Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW!!!!!!!! Abuse present in chapter! Please do not read if this makes you uncomfortable!

Dean was always surprised when his father was home before midnight, hauling his ass to bed, reeking of alcohol. So imagine his face when he and Sammy returned from hunting one day, at three thirty in the afternoon, to find John Winchester leaning on the kitchen bench looking at a flyer. **  
**

That, of course, doesn’t mean that the old man wasn’t pissed out of his mind, because Dean nearly threw up at the sudden smell of whiskey mixed with puke. 

“Dad?” Sam said, and he dropped his hunting bag on the floor and ran to their father, giving him a hug. John was shorter than both his boys now, so it looked funny from Dean’s point of view. 

Not even acknowledging them, John turned the flyer around to show Dean, who slowly walked towards it, dropping his own bag in the process. The flyer read:

* * *

> **THE 145TH ROYAL FAMILY BALL**
> 
> YOUR ATTENDANCE IS REQUIRED AT THIS YEARS BALL, WHO’S GUEST OF HONOUR IS PRINCE MICHAEL, FIRST IN LINE TO THE THRONE
> 
> SOON TO BE KING MICHAEL, THE PRINCE NEEDS A QUEEN OR KING TO RULE BY HIS SIDE. ALL VILLAGERS AGED SIXTEEN TO TWENTY-FIVE MUST ATTEND, OR CONSEQUENCES WILL BE ENFORCED
> 
> _TO BE HELD INSIDE THE ROYAL FAMILY CASTLE IN ONE WEEK_

* * *

“That means that I have to go,” Dean groaned and made his way to the fridge to grab himself a beer. Sixteen was the legal age for everything here, which explained the desired age group on the flyer. 

“I don’t want you anywhere near that Prince, you got me,” John’s finger followed Dean as he returned to his spot at the bench.

“What? Skip it? And feel the wrath of the powers that be?” Dean sniggered, taking a swig of his beer. 

“No son of mine will ever be involved with that family,” John walked close to Dean, his face twitching with anger. 

“Whoa Dad, since when do you dislike authority?” Dean stared right back, getting sick of his father. “You’re not even here half the time, what’s it matter to you what I do?” 

“Because I am the man of this house, and your father!” John slammed his fist down on the table.

“You haven’t been my father in a long time, old man,” Dean spat in his face, putting his beer back on the bench. 

John picked Dean up by the front of his shirt and slammed him into the nearest wall, shaking the whole house and waking up grandpa Sam. Mary also rushed into the room. “John…” she said as a weak attempt to stop her husband. Meanwhile, Dean laughed, tilting his head back till it hit the wall. His father pulled one arm back and punched Dean in the face. 

“Dad stop!” Sam yelled, but Mary put an arm around him, stopping him from getting any closer. 

“You will follow my orders, son,” John hissed, waiting for a response. 

“Yeah? So what if I don’t. I suppose you’d kill me?” Dean tilted his head forward again, looking John in the eyes, right before he was punched again.

It was killing Dean to not try flip the situation around. John may be drunk, but he taught Dean everything he knew. And he also wanted to keep the rest of his family safe.

“John… please,” Mary said quietly again, holding Sam tightly. Sometimes Dean would find himself wondering if his mother really cared about him or Sam, but she was clearly in pain at the blood and bruises forming on her son’s face. Dean was beginning to see that John was the person who broke her, which only fueled the fire. 

Squirming against John’s strong arm pushing him to the wall, he managed to get free as his father turned to look at Mary, relaxing slightly. 

“You should go,” Mary said quietly again.

“Excuse me?”

“You heard her. You should go for a while, get a little drunker, go to rehab, I don’t really care at this point. Just stay away,” Dean took a step back, but still spoke with the same tone of resent in his voice. 

John looked from Dean to Mary, then back to Dean. “Adam’s in jail again. Go bail him out,” the older man said as he stormed out the front door, slamming it behind him.

“With what money?!” Dean called back, but there was never a response. 

* * *

 

All Castiel wanted to do was curl up in a chair and watch Bee bake, but Balthazar had dragged him to one of the spare bedrooms, where Anna and Gadreel were sitting and arguing about something. Anael used to join them in this room, but Chuck wasn’t taking any more risks. At least, according to Balthazar, he wasn’t. Zachariah also used to sit with his younger siblings, but once he turned eighteen, gaining new responsibilities and freedom, he’d turn up his nose to any of the younger royals. 

“I’m sixteen! In all the books that’s when the girl meets the guy!” Anna argued. Castiel sometimes wondered where his younger sister’s passion for love came from because he had read all the same books as she had and really wasn’t overly fussed about the whole romance thing. 

“Really, Anna? You’re going off books?” Gadreel scoffed as Castiel worked his way around their places on the floor to sit at his normal spot on the window seat.

Castiel had also convinced himself, in the last five minutes, that his father had made Balthazar keep a closer eye on him after the chaos the week before. His evidence? Well, for starters, the four of them hadn’t caught up like this in a year. And in the following months till his birthday, his brother seemed more desperate to spend time with him. Which confused him. Because ever since Naomi told him-

“Cas!” Anna’s sharp voice cut through Castiel’s thought train. “I’ll meet the one at the ball tonight, right?”

“Anna you’re sixteen. That’s- wait. Ball?” Castiel sighed but sat up straighter.

“Yeah Michael’s thing! You know? How Dad’s been pressing him about getting a wife?” Anna said slowly, wondering if Castiel was meant to know this.

“Ugh. Like I keep saying. I. Get. Told. Nothing,” Castiel grumbled and made a start to leave the room, ignoring the sad looks he was getting. 

“Castiel,” Anna said in a small voice once his hand touched the doorknob. “When you’re eighteen, you’re not going to leave us right?” he pretended not to notice the daggers Gadreel and Balthazar were sending her way.

Instead of commenting on his brothers, Castiel’s hard expression softened. “Of course not,” he smiled. “I’d never leave any of you, no matter how stuck up some of you are,” and with that, he turned and walked out the room, leaving the grim faces behind.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so shitty. new, good stuff coming soon though!!!! (destiel, fyi)


	4. Chapter Four

Sam had walked with Dean as far as he could to get a close view of the castle, which Dean didn’t argue too. He already was sort of nervous. Having Sammy there helped.

 

But now, Dean was hovering around the edge of the ballroom, a few bite-sized snacks in his hand. Most people from his village were avoiding him, but some of the classier people weren’t too fussed. Dean also wasn’t too sure as to why he was even there, it was obvious that Prince Michael wouldn’t pick him, especially over a bunch of snobs from the first village. Still, he steered clear of anyone dressed too nicely, just in case.

 

Looking over his shoulder, he made his way over to the food table again, when he bumped into someone. “I am so so sorry!” Dean heard the other person say, turning to face him.

 

Not looking at their face, Dean grumbled: “It was my fault, don’t worry about that,” the person's voice was sweet, and almost a bit familiar… 

 

“Oh! Jo! I haven’t seen you in ages!” Dean suddenly looked up, surprised. 

 

“Dean? I nearly didn’t recognise you in the suit,” his cousin teased.

 

“Haha, really funny,” Dean smirked back, but he was secretly thinking of a way to excuse himself from the conversation. John was the reason Jo’s father died a few years back, and the Harvelles had kept their distance.

 

“I’ve missed you, Dean,” Jo says so quietly Dean nearly missed it.

 

“Yeah, same Jo. But I’ll see you around,” he forced a smile and kept walking to the other side of the room, being stopped again in the middle.

 

“Why, hello there,” a man much taller than Dean stepped in front of him. Gulping, Dean looked up.

 

“Prince Michael. How kind of you to invite everyone in your attempt to make up for your patheticness?” Dean replied in a kind tone, despite his words. 

 

Michael only smiled. “I think I’m taking a liking to you, Dean Winchester,” he tilted his head, looking into the shorter man’s eyes. 

 

Right, so he knew who he was. Fantastic. “You’ve only just met me, at least take me on a date first,” Dean raised his voice pitch a bit and twirled fake hair. “Excuse me,” he stepped to the side, but Michael blocked him.

 

“You know what happens when I want something…”

 

“Yeah, spoilt brat, I know. Now leave me alone and find your Cinderella with her glass slippers, someone actually into you,” Dean snapped, turning around and walking away, searching for the closest door. Not that anyone would be into him.

 

“You can’t run from me Dean,” he heard but tried to block it out. “I always get what I want!” 

 

Dean closed the door behind him. 

 

* * *

 

 

Castiel was sitting in a tree, his legs dangling from the bushes in the pitch black darkness. He was in the part of the forest behind the castle, the part he was most familiar with. He watched the lights flicker in the windows, and the stars shining above. He listened to the clattering and laughing of the people, and the peaceful chirp of the birds.

 

But suddenly there's a door creak too close for comfort. The prince pulled his legs up so they were crossed, and he held on the branches as he pushed himself further out of view. 

 

With aid of the light coming from some of the windows, through the leaves Castiel made out the silhouette of a man, who seemed to be trying to gather his bearings. 

 

Castiel leaned in to watch closely, as the man began to walk. He didn’t seem to have a purpose but seemed well acquainted with navigating the forest, which led Castiel to the conclusion that it was another one of his brothers. In his head, he wondered which it could be. Chuck hadn’t let Samandriel join in tonight, no matter how much the thirteen-year-old insisted he’d be fine. Gabriel would be having to much fun tormenting Michael, and Lucifer…

 

Castiel’s hand slipped and nearly the whole tree shook, and a deep voice said: “Who’s there?”

 

So it wasn’t any of his brothers. 

 

He considered jumping out of the tree, but how much of a risk was that putting his life in. 

 

“You’re too close to the castle to be an animal. C’mon, get out of the tree,” the gruff voice said again, giving the prince a sense of déjà vu.

 

Sighing, Castiel readied himself to jump down, but unfortunately, the stranger had walked directly underneath the tree and Castiel jumped. 

 

“Whoa there, let me take you on a date first,” the stranger said, winking, catching the prince with impeccable reflexes.

 

Castiel couldn’t find the words in him to reply, instead, he was looking awestruck into a pair of eyes as green as the forest on a warm sunny day.

 

“Well, aren’t you at least going to thank me?” the man teased. He probably couldn’t see much of Castiel, the light behind him casting shadows on his face. But it was obvious he was a royal. 

 

“Put me down,” Castiel managed to say, and the man did. Not without a chuckle of course. 

 

“Alright princey, what are you doing out here anyway? There’s a party in there” the stranger smirked now, gesturing behind Castiel.

 

“I could say the same to you,” Castiel squinted and tilted his head slightly, making the man chuckle again.

 

Castiel’s eyes widened. “It’s you!”

 

“Huh?” he turned his head back to face the prince, confused for the first time since meeting the prince.

 

“You’re one of the hunters! You tried to shoot me!” Castiel tried not to raise his voice too much in fear of causing a scene, but he still stepped back. 

 

“Hey, hey! It wasn’t like that!” realisation slowly seeped into the man. “I was just messing around with my little brother! I wasn’t ever going to shoot you!”

 

Castiel squinted further, wondering why his charm had run off and left an anxious teenager behind.

 

“You know, I could always just, forget about it,” Castiel said slyly, and the man recoiled slightly in surprise. 

 

“What?” 

 

“Come into the light a bit more, I want to see if your eyes match the rest of you,” Castiel was a little surprised at himself, but maybe it was the several few drinks he’d snuck outside ages ago.

 

Hesitantly, he walked closer to the prince, and Castiel smiled. He was gorgeous. Absolutely stunning. The prince made a rash and bold decision. 

 

“Meet me in the same spot as you almost shot me-” Castiel ignored the flicker in his eyes. “No questions asked,”

 

“But-”

 

“No questions!”

 

The man was silent. So Castiel took the opportunity to ask him a question. “What’s your name?”

 

“Dean. Dean Winchester,”

 

“Pleasure to meet you, Dean. If you go now, I can cover for you,” Castiel winked, and Dean nodded.

 

“What’s-” Dean started, but Castiel tilted his head up, almost daring him.

 

Looking down, Dean turned to go, mentally hitting himself for being so awkward. Just before he turned the corner, a voice made him stop in his tracks.

 

“Castiel. My name is Castiel,”

 

Dean couldn’t help himself. “It’s a date!”


	5. Chapter Five

“You’re home early,” Grandpa Sam said as Dean slowly closed the door behind him, not wanting to wake anybody up. He was earlier than expected, yes, but it was still late into the night.

 

“Uh, hey grandpa,” Dean mumbled. So he didn’t always sleep, he was just awake at night. Hunting used to have to happen in the middle of the night, but the forest became nighttime eternally almost three decades back. Old habits die hard. 

 

“How was the ball? You didn’t let your father get in your head, did you?” Dean could have sworn he also heard his grandfather mumble something about John, but Dean dismissed it. In reality, who hadn’t?

 

“Yeah it was alright,” Dean sighed, grabbing one of the pre-made iced tea’s his mum had in the fridge. He never would have drunk that in front of anyone else, but who was Grandpa going to tell that would believe him?

 

“Mustn’t have been if you’re back already,” Grandpa Sam reasoned. 

 

“Yeah,” Dean huffed out a laugh. “I met someone though. I’m supposed to be meeting him tomorrow,” he froze up once he realised what he’d said.

 

“Sounds like…” Grandpa Sam started, but he never got to finish his sentence. He soon started to snore.

 

Sighing, Dean sunk lower into his chair and sipped his iced tea, trying to process the events of the night, and what the prince’s intentions were.

 

Shit.

 

_The Prince._  Dean realised in his head, and he nearly dropped the tea.

 

* * *

 

Castiel was pacing the room, wondering how he managed to get himself into this mess. At this rate, he’d end up like Anael.

 

He stopped moving and looked out the window. “I didn’t give him a time!” he said, maybe a little too loudly. 

 

“Is there anything wrong, my prince?” a butler who had just been walking past Castiel’s room popped his head around the door.

 

“No no! It’s fine!” Castiel barely managed to gather his bearings and act cool, and the butler nodded respectfully and walked out. The prince tried to dismiss the suspicious look the butler had on his face as he left, but he couldn’t help but worry they’d place better security to keep them in.

 

After a bit more pacing, and wondering if he should tell Balthazar about what he’d planned (he decided to not tell anyone, and let it pan out itself). He finally walked his way to the kitchens, trying to act casual, thankful Bee wasn’t around so he could sneak out the window.

 

It took a lot of effort to not run, but Castiel hardly knew what this guy was like? Or why his drunk brain, or subconsciousness made a, whatever you’d call it. Maybe it was the alcohol. Maybe he’d just have to send the boy home and explain how he was-

 

Holy _shit._

 

This boy is beautiful. He’s tall, oh my god he’s _tall._  Castiel couldn’t tell much else in the shade of the trees and the distance away he was, but the back of the boy he looked well built. 

 

Surely that couldn’t be him? His eyes are tricking him…

 

But his feet were dragging him towards- what was his name? Declan? He’d find out again soon anyway.

 

Castiel tried to walk quietly and carefully towards Dean, but before he was even thirty meters away the boy’s head perked up and he turned around with an excited expression.

 

With a gun in his hand.

 

Alarmed, Castiel gasped and took a substep backwards, holding his hands up. The other boy’s eyes widened in surprise, before realising what was in his hand. Quickly dropping the shotgun, he said: “Hey hey no I wasn’t going to shoot you!” 

 

“Would have been really romantic. Shoot me where you nearly shot me,” Castiel could resist saying that, but it only seemed to make the other boy restless.

 

“You never gave a time, so I figured I'd get here early and maybe get a bit of hunting in,” he rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. _That voice-_

 

“That’s my fault, sorry about that,” Castiel laughed slightly, earning a stifled chuckle from the boy. He beamed.

 

Taking a few steps closer, Castiel continued to speak. “I wanted to apologise for last night first. I’d been drinking and-”

 

“Rebel, ey? Then again, we already knew that” the boy smirked, taking the final few strides so he was mere inches away from the prince. 

 

Castiel found himself staring right into the green eyes, which were even more beautiful sober. He nearly caught himself trying to count the freckles when he remembered what he wanted to ask. “I can’t- I can’t remember your name, I’m so sorry,” he blushed, looking down at his feet.

 

Dean tilted his head up slightly and laughed. _God, that laugh!_ “I guess you were pretty smashed last night, weren’t you?”

 

Castiel flushed a deeper shade.

 

“It’s Dean, sweetheart. Dean Winchester,” Dean smiled as Castiel looked back at the taller boy. Little did he know that Castiel’s heart was melting right then and there.

 

“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you,” Castiel slipped out, getting lost in his eyes again. What the _hell_  was he doing? He didn’t even know if this boy was gay, let alone into-

 

“I thought you were too drunk to remember?” Dean teased, chuckling again.

 

“I’m here though, aren’t I?” Castiel said in retaliation, and it went silent. Only a bird chirping in the distance could be heard.

 

“I couldn’t either,” Dean said so quietly, that if Castiel hadn’t been hyper fixed on him he would have missed it. Looking at his eyes, the prince could tell he was fighting some sort of internal battle. Something, Castiel knew, to do with him. 

 

Unable to read the signs of what Dean wanted, Castiel grabbed Dean by the shoulders and guided him towards a large log. “Sit. We’re here, so we might as well have a conversation, get to know each other. Because I’m getting a town outcast vibe from you,” 

 

Furrowing his brow, Dean sat anyway. “Just because my-”

 

“I’m right, aren’t I.”

 

“Yeah,” Dean grumbled in response, making Castiel laugh. He pretended not to see Dean’s eyes light up at the sound. 

 

“Cas…”

 

“Cas?” Castiel interrupted Dean.

 

“Is it alright if I call you that?” he asked, and the prince nodded. 

 

“Yeah.” Castiel thought for a moment. “Yeah! It was just weird hearing it come from someone else's mouth. My brother calls me that,” he explained, secretly dying over how his name sounds coming from this, well, _strangers_ mouth. But he felt like he’d known Dean forever, so could he really be a stranger?

 

“Alright, Cas. Tell me about you,”

 

A good two hours passed, and the two boys were still painting their lives for the other, bitching about their families and sharing their dreams. 

 

It had been silent for a minute, however, as Castiel had paused mid-sentence to watch a bee fly past, his blue eyes trailing the little yellow and black creature. When it flew out of sight, to carry on with its day, the prince turned back towards Dean, who was smiling at him with a certain fondness. 

 

Who was staring at his lips. 

 

“Dean…”

 

The hunter slowly shuffled closer to Castiel, his eyes not leaving his lips, and he leaned in. 

 

As Castiel closed his eyes, he felt something against his shoulder, and when he opened them Dean was there, breathing heavily. 

 

Castiel was quick to place a hand on his back, rubbing in large circles. 

 

“I- I can’t Cas. I’m sorry,” Dean mumbled into Castiel, who shushed him. 

 

“It’s okay Dean, you have nothing to be sorry for,” he said in a hushed tone, still rubbing Dean’s back. His own mind was going a million miles per hour, trying to make sense of what's happened.

 

“I need to- I should go,” Dean slowly sat up, blinking away what would have been tears. He began walking away, before Castiel remembered something.

 

“DEAN!” he yelled out, and the boy turned around to see Castiel holding his shotgun. Running back, the hunter thanked him, but Castiel grabbed his wrist. 

 

“Two days. Please. If you want to see me again, I’ll be here,” he said with pleading eyes, and Dean nodded. 

 

_Hopefully, that will give him enough time to… figure things out._  Castiel found himself thinking as he walked his separate way from Dean, wondering if this was the last time.


	6. Chapter Six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i think short n shitty is now my fanfic slogan

Dean did, indeed, come back after two days. He hadn’t sorted out his feelings just yet, but he couldn’t stand the thought of Castiel sitting there alone, waiting for him.

 

It’s been the best decision he ever made. 

 

He constantly thought about Castiel, and he thought about doing things with him when they were in the forest together, but he couldn’t understand why he felt these things, thought these thoughts. He was a straight guy, right? He’s allowed to appreciate another good-looking, handsome, melt-your soul eyes… just a regular guy, right? Right?!

 

“Hiya, Cas,” Dean smiled at the prince, who was sitting on their log, squinting at a squirrel. They’d been catching up every two days for two and a half weeks now, every day in between driving them insane.

 

“Hello, Dean.” Castiel’s face warmed as he looked up at Dean. Dean knew about Castiel’s feelings for him, he’d expressed them only a few days ago. And yet, it was never awkward. Castiel carried on as if he’d said nothing, but even Dean could tell he felt lighter. 

 

“Tell me, did you miss me yesterday?” Dean teased as he sat down on the log, bringing out a fresh pie from his bag.

 

“No, but I missed your mum's pie,” Castiel teased right back, and Dean faked a hurt expression.  

 

Both boys knew to never push their boundaries when it came to, well, the thought of a relationship. Dean suspected Castiel had a clue about Dean’s confusion, but he was grateful for the silence of the topic. They just got to be themselves, and not worry about what a new step would change. 

 

It’s a summer of love, a first love, and a childish romance. Never to be continued once Dean was eighteen, and pushed into marriage by his father. He assumed that Castiel would take the same fate. 

 

* * *

 

 

Dean takes a deep breath. He has to do it today. He needs to. If seeing him only every second made him insane, this made him terribly unholy.

 

He’s eighteen today. Castiel, who is now leaning on Dean, who Dean had his arm around. Castiel, the angel, had planned a birthday party for him. With just the two of them.

Enough.

He needs to hear it. Castiel doesn’t deserve anything else.

“Cas- I- I think-“ he pauses to take in a deep breath.

“Yes, Dean?” A sleepy Castiel looks up and blinks at Dean with his blue as blue eyes.

“I think I might love you too, Cas,” Dean says shakily. The prince simply smiles and snuggles into Dean’s side even more.

This is it. This is A True Love.


	7. Chapter Seven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Important A/N:   
> this is a very important chapter. not necessarily to the fic, but to everyone finding out who they are. please be aware that i have not and will not experience all the different sexualities and gender identities, and this is just my best interpretation of them. I have also talked with a few friends about how they feel as a *blank* to help, and their experience may be different to others. thank you and I hope you enjoy the chapter.

“What?!” Dean jumped up from the log, a look of confusion on his face. “I thought you were gay!”

 

Castiel raised an eyebrow. “Well, when you put it that way…” 

 

The two boys had been discussing an all-female band that had recently visited the kingdom, which Castiel had managed to sneak Dean a ticket too. Away from him, of course.

 

But Dean had mentioned how ’hot’ the lead singer was, and Castiel dreamily agreed.

 

“But, I thought I- if you’re straight then how do you-” Dean stumbled, taking a step back on instinct.

 

Shaking his head and chuckling to himself, Castiel patted the spot beside him again, asking him to sit down. He waited until Dean had hesitantly done so before talking.

 

“Less,  _ gay _ , more Asexual Panromantic,” Castiel smiled sweetly. This was a big step for them really, because despite knowing about how much they loved each other, neither were exactly ready for any kind of relationship.

 

“I’m going to assume that you’re not gay either?” Castiel teased, wondering how much the hunter actually knew about his sexuality. 

 

“Those are some mighty big words,” Dean laughed nervously. “Well, I’ve never called myself gay. I mean, I like girls. But then there’s you, Cas,”

 

Castiel took in a sharp breath.

 

“You could be Heteroflexible, or uh, Heterosexual Demiromantic? Or-”

 

“Whoah whoah whoah, I don’t understand any of that,” Dean recoiled slightly. He’d heard of Heterosexual, but the others?

 

“Bisexual” Castiel finished

 

“Bi- bi what?” Dean forgot about his past confusion. There was something about that word. 

 

“If you’re bisexual, you like men and women. ‘Bi’, as in two” Castiel looked over at Dean’s face, sliding a bit closer to him. 

 

“Oh,” Dean said quietly, trying to let it sink in. It has a  _ name _ . “ So, that’s what you think I am?”

 

“Dean, no one can tell you what you are. Experiment with the names. Find what makes you feel comfortable. You don’t have to know now. You could even call yourself Queer, if you can’t find a comfortable label, or if you don’t want a label at all,” Castiel comforted Dean, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. 

 

Dean took in a big gulp. “So is your dad uh, is he cool with all that? With your aces- uh, and pans?”

 

Chuckling, Castiel continued. “Oh yeah, he’s big on letting us be ourselves. To a degree, of course. Michael, who you’ve met, is actually genderfluid,” Castiel almost kept going, but he saw Dean’s confused face. 

 

“Genderfluid is like… I can’t exactly do it justice explaining it, because I have never experienced it. It’s where someone sometimes feels comfortable in their body, being a girl for example, but other days they can’t stand their body, because that day they’re a boy. Then other days they might be both. Or neither,”

 

“That’s a thing?” Dean was struggling to get his father's words out of his head. 

 

“Don’t be insensitive Dean.”

 

“I’m sorry, sorry,” Dean hung his head. Goddamn John and his-

 

“I’m sure it's okay, I guess this all new for you,” Castiel noticed his shame and quickly tried to fix his problem. And then he continued. 

 

“Raphael, the third oldest, is transgender. He didn’t feel comfortable in the body he was born in, so he got some help from Chuck and my brothers to be a man. Chuck is bisexual as well actually,” Castiel added, nudging Dean.

 

“Bisexual,” Dean said, but his mind was far away. He was trying it out, seeing how it felt. “I’m- I’m Bi,”

 

“Like I said Dean, you don’t-”

 

“No!” Dean jumped up, from excitement this time. “No I mean- I mean it all makes sense now!” he turned to face Castiel, a look of pure joy across his face. 

 

“Everything I’ve felt, all of these  _ things _ and  _ feelings _ that I’ve just dismissed, it all makes sense now. I- I can’t thank you enough, Cas,” Dean sat down again, sunbeams practically shining from his face, the happiest he’s been in years.

 

Looking at him with loving eyes, Castiel placed a hand on Dean’s hand, and his eyes widened in shock. Fearing that he was taking it too far, he went to take his hand away, but he found another hand on top of his. He looked up to see Dean giving Castiel the same look.

 

“Could you please explain what Asexual Panromantic means?” Dean shyly said in a small voice, earning another kind smile.

 

“Asexual means I don’t feel sexual attraction. I don’t want sex,” Castiel spoke a little nervously.

 

“What? No sex?” Dean tilted his head slightly, less accusing and more curious. 

 

“Nope. I just don’t. If you wanted some, too bad,” Castiel forced a laugh out, trying to hide years of pain behind his eyes. Yes, he came from a supportive family. Doesn’t mean he understood it himself.

 

“I won’t force you to do anything you don’t want to,” Dean looked Castiel in the eyes, as serious as he could get, earning a nod and smile from the prince. “Now, tell me. You’re romantically attracted to kitchen appliances?”

 

“No,” Castiel laughed, shaking his head. “No. It means I could be romantically in love with anyone. Any gender, binary or non-binary,” he explained after letting himself cool down from laughing. 

 

“But isn’t that-”

 

“Bisexual? Well, technically. Just because you’re Bi doesn’t mean you can’t love non-binary people. Some people feel more comfortable with the Pansexual label, rather than Bisexual,” Castiel could see this going over Dean’s head, but the boy was trying. That counted for everything.

 

“And non-binary is…” Dean trailed off, hoping Castiel would take the hint.

 

“People who don’t feel comfortable as a guy or a girl. They might be neither, both, or something completely different. There are also many cultures that don’t have just two genders, but that's a story for another day,” Castiel explained quickly. It was getting late, and he was tired. The constant worrying that his father would find out about  _ everything _ was really getting to him. But once Castiel was eighteen, he and Dean would run off together. They’d already talked about it and agreed. The small steps they’d taken meant to world to them, and they never wanted to let it go.

 

Castiel hadn’t even realised they’d been silent for a few minutes, staring off at a small gap in the trees, when a shooting star flew by. Turning to Dean, he expected him to still be looking at the sky so he could say ‘make a wish’, but the hunter was already smiling at him.

 

“Cas, can I please kiss you?” Dean asked, and Castiel’s whole world stopped spinning. His breath hitched. His heart skipped a beat.

 

Unable to find words, he nods and watched as Dean bites his lip, staring as Castiel’s. Dean cupped Castiel’s head with one hand and leaned in. As they made connection, their eyes closed on instinct. 

 

And it was every bit of perfect Castiel had hoped for. Dean’s lips,  _ oh _ , his lips were so  _ soft _ , were gentle with Castiel, and he was melting. Melting into the kiss and into Dean’s arms.

 

Both soon needed to break for air, and they rested their foreheads against one another. Castiel was suddenly conscious about his constantly chapped lips. But ultimately, the kiss was at the front of his mind.

 

“That was…” Castiel started, but Dean finished for him.

 

“Awesome,” Dean looked into Castiel’s eyes with a smile. 

 

He smiled back at the hunter. At  _ his _ hunter. And then they kissed again.

 

* * *

 

 

Dean walked into his house with the biggest grin on his face. As expected, his mother was in her room, most likely sewing. Grandpa Sam was snoozing in his chair, and Sam was- Sam? What was Sam doing at home? Sitting at the bench! There’s no way he’s getting away with lying about the biggest smile on his face ever.

 

“Dean! I’ve been waiting for you!”

 

“Uh, hiya Sammy,” Dean had stopped in his tracks, holding an empty hunting bag, failing at his attempts to mask his smile.

 

“What's got you beaming like a mini sun?” Sam teased, getting up from the bench, where he had been reading his book. “Also, why are you so late?”

 

“I could ask you why you’re so early,” Dean dropped his bag on the ground and held his arms out for a hug. Dean held his little brother tight. 

 

“Not unless you tell me who put that massive grin on your face!” Sam argued.

 

SIghing, Dean walked to the bench and leaned on it, and Sam followed so he was facing his brother. “Whose home right now? Dad is-”

 

“Dad’s out like always. Why-”

 

“What would you say, Sammy, if I told you I was in love?” Dean spat out, cutting his brother off. 

 

“Why would I care Dean? Like sure, that’s great. But-” Sam was getting a bit sick of the cutting off.

 

“With a guy,” Dean finished, searching his brother’s eyes for a reaction. A response. Anything. 

 

Sam furrowed his brow for the shortest second, before turning nonchalant again. “So? Again. Do I care?” he sighed, rolling his eyes and grabbing his book again.

 

“You don’t mind me being…  you know, Bi?” Dean realised that he’d probably have to explain everything to Sam and-

 

“Again Dean, don’t care. I’m Bi too,” Sam answered, not looking up from his book as he took a spot on the couch. The older Winchester’s mouth went slack.

 

Due to the lack of comebacks, or any noise at all, Sam looked up to Dean and laughed. “Get over here! Are you going to tell me about this guy or not?”

 

Smiling as he regained muscle control to walk to Sam, Dean was trying to think of a way to explain the love of his life to his little brother, but it hit him. 

 

Just start at the start, like all good fairy tales.

 

“Well…”

 

* * *

 

 

“Son, we need to talk,” Chuck said the minute Castiel stepped foot in the room. He had only just arrived back at his bedroom door when some of his father’s most trusted men came to escort him to the king’s chambers. A very rare event indeed.

 

Castiel gulped.


	8. Chapter Eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the long wait, things have been busy lately. I hope to finish this fic soon though!

“Son, we need to talk,” King Chuck was sitting in a chair off the side of the room. Castiel had to admit that whenever he was in here, he wanted to sit in it and feel how comfy it was because it certainly looked it. 

 

Gulping, the prince took a few steps forward into the room, allowing his fathers men to close the door behind him. He flinched when he heard it lock.

 

“Please, take a seat,” the king gestured to his four-poster bed, which was immaculately made. 

 

“I- uh, I-” Castiel stammered, feeling like it was a privilege he didn’t deserve.

 

“Cas, you know things aren’t like that around here,” he softened his voice, and Castiel hesitantly sat down.

 

“I’m sorry,” Chuck continued. “I know I haven’t been around for any of you since your mother-” Castiel tried to ignore his choke. “Even before all of that. I was just so  _ obsessed  _ with the kingdom and trying to provide for my family that I never got to spend time with you. Especially you,”

 

“It was alright, father. We had each other,”

 

“But  _ I  _ split you up. I was a bad parent to Michael and Lucifer and that… that just made things worse…” the King ran a hand through his hair.

 

“Father I don’t mean to interrupt but is there a point to this? I don’t understand why I’ve been called in here…” Castiel spoke in the silence, his nerves getting the best of him.

 

Sighing, Chuck folded his hands in his lap. “You’re turning eighteen in three weeks,” he said absentmindedly.

 

“Uh, yes?”

 

“I know that you always feel like you don’t get told anything, and I’m so sorry, I acted out of fear. I wanted to protect you so I thought… I thought keeping you in the dark would do that,” Chuck was an old man, despite his visual appearance. He’d seen many things, lived many years, and yet he was nearly in tears. Castiel wasn’t sure if he should be scared for himself or his father.

 

“Father,  _ please _ ,” Castiel was sitting on the edge of the bed. “What’s going on?”

 

“You’re cursed Castiel. You had the last christening where the public was invited because an unknown villager cast a powerful spell on you, and they disappeared without a trace,” Chuck removed his hands from his face, and there it was. A single tear. Forming in the corner of his eye.

 

_ Curse? I can live with cursed. What, am I doomed to never run a kingdom? As if I’d care _ Castiel thought to himself, confident things were fine.

 

“Castiel,”  _ Full name _ . “It’s not fine. You were cursed to die at the mercy of an angel blade,” Chuck sighed, trying to push down resurfacing memories.

 

“Angel blades are  _ real _ ?” Castiel recoiled in shock, those were only legends his big brothers told him to scare him. All it did was make him interested in fiction. 

 

“Yes. I had them all banned after the… the incident. I couldn’t risk it,” Castiel’s eyes were darting everywhere as Chuck spoke. He had been so focused on the angel blades that he hadn’t even noticed. Hadn’t noticed what an angel blade would do to him. 

 

In three weeks. That was it. He was going to die at the hands of one of his favourite myths. He had so much more to  _ do, _ to  _ see _ ! And what about- what about  _ Dean _ ?

 

_ Dean _ .

 

They were making real progress. I mean, Castiel and Dean Winchester had just kissed for the first time, less than half an hour ago, but this conversation had killed the pleasant tingling sensation dead. 

 

He was never going to get to make that life with Dean he’d been dreaming about for three months. With their little house in the woods and two little girls. His dream might as well have been stabbed by an angel blade itself.

 

The prince hadn’t noticed that his breathing had sped up, and as he pulled himself out of spiralling thoughts he grabbed his chest from the pain. He also never noticed that Chuck had quickly sat next to his son and held on tight, murmuring ‘It’s okay’ again and again and again until he began to feel better, and he had a grip on his spiral. 

 

“Dad, is there a way to stop it,” Castiel looked up at his father, whose eyes lit up at being called ‘Dad’ for the first time by his son before falling again, remembering the situation. The sheer dire of it. 

 

“If I hadn’t of been so dramatic, I could have finished. You still had one more good fairy that was to give you a gift. While they couldn’t change it,” Chuck added quickly this time, as he noticed how hopeful the almost eighteen-year-old’s eyes got. “She was able to change it. Cas, you aren’t going to die, you’re just going to enter a death-like-sleep, and a true love’s kiss will bring you back. But there's a very real chance that that might never happen” 

 

Castiel leaned back into his father, processing that true loves kiss was also real, and that he wasn’t going to die, as long as he had a true love. “How likely is it that we’ll find the one in time?” maybe now was the time to confess about Dean.

 

“Soulmates… are a tricky thing. You shouldn’t expect to wake up quickly when it happens,” Chuck sighed again. He’d put this conversation off for years, but he’d really just made the situation worse. If he’d told Castiel as a child, there’d be more acceptance by now, not the angst and confusion that was surely going to follow. 

 

“When? How many times have you said when now?” Castiel had been quiet again, before jumping up and away from his father, enraged. 

 

“Cas…”

 

“You’re just going to accept that this is going to happen? You’re not even going to  _ try  _ and protect me from  _ practically dying _ in three weeks? You said it yourself, there's a very real chance I might not ever wake up. Lucifer never said anything kind about you, and you know what? He’s right. You’re selfish, and you only think about yourself. You’ve given up on us all, abandoning us at the perfect chance, letting us feel unloved and unwanted? Do you know how many days I’ve spent hiding in the castle because I had no idea what was going on, and no father figure to support me? You’ve pushed everyone away, and I guess pretty soon you won’t have to deal with me at all,” Castiel snapped, sneering the last part. He was mentally trying to decide whether it was worth waiting for a response or if he should just storm out of there. His last statement cut deep, and the prince’s curiosity wasn’t going to let him go that easily.

 

“I know, you think that,” Chuck was strangely calm. “But the last thing I want is for anything to happen to any of you. This all happened a long time ago for me Castiel, I had to struggle with its knowledge, and I came to terms with it. It was very powerful magic, locking you up somewhere isn’t going to work. They call it fate,”

 

“Dean believes in free will. What's written in the books doesn’t matter, I get to write my own story, Chuck! If I say I won’t die, I won’t die. I’m in charge.  _ Me _ ,” he pointed at his chest and stood taller. With that, he turned around and finally stormed out.

 

“Dean?” Chuck murmured like the name was bring back old memories. But Castiel hadn’t heard, he was halfway down the corridor. 

 

“Castiel wait!” he attempted yelling out again, but Michael stepped in the door, standing in front of the king,

 

“Father, don’t,” he spoke formally. “Leave him be. He needs time,”

 

Chuck listened, slumping back down in his chair, as Michael began talking again. What about? God knows. He had other things on his mind.

 

* * *

 

 

Castiel didn’t stop running after he’d disappeared from his father’s room’s view. He didn’t stop running out of the castle, despite seeing multiple of his siblings on the way. All the bastards knew, what could he possibly tell them.

 

So he was on his way to the clearing of light, of warmth, expecting the cold moon to be shining through. It felt appropriate to his mood.

 

So imagine his reaction when Dean was lying on the ground, propped up by the log, completely still. 

 

“Dean?” he spoke cautiously, worried that things had worsened for him since last time they met, or maybe there were doubts about the kiss-

 

“Cas?” Dean startled awake, sensing the prince getting closer. “What are you- why are you here?” his gravely sleep voice mumbled, waking up still.

 

“I could ask you the same question, Dean. Why are you sleeping here? Did something happen with your dad?” Castiel rushed over to sit by the hunter's side, and even in the cool light, the worry was a prominent feature on his face.

 

“No, things are great! I told Sammy about us,” Dean smiled widely, clearly pleased. “And I just… wanted to feel close to you,” he then hung his head, sheepish.

 

This was only returned with a huge smile from Castiel, who gently held the side of the other man’s face in his hand, rubbing his thumb over the cheekbones. 

 

With bright eyes, Dean looked up again. “But what are you doing here?” he asked, the worried tone now in his voice.

 

“I, uh,” Castiel stammered, as he remembered why. The second he’d seen Dean he’d forgotten, but now it was rushing back.

 

He should tell Dean. He needs to. He deserves to know, even though it would crush him.

 

“I was feeling the same,” Castiel’s cheeks flushed red. He shouldn’t be lying. Dean deserves to know. But the prince has barely accepted this himself, how can he share it with the love of his life?

 

“Then stay with me,” Dean beamed, glowing at the thought of spending the night with his prince.

 

It felt like Castiel was already being stabbed by an angel blade. 

 


	9. Chapter Nine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (TRIGGER) WARNING - Homophobic behaviour, use of the "f" slur (gay). It is in character but pleased be warned if this is in any way harming to you. Skip to the end notes for a short summary if you wish to avoid this word.

Castiel didn’t tell Dean. 

 

He’d tried. Oh, he tried so hard to tell him but the words never came out. He’s told Dean he loves him more than intended to, but that wasn’t the biggest of his problems. 

 

His eighteenth birthday was tomorrow. 

 

The prince had mainly wanted to stay away from his family. They had tried reaching out to Castiel in the beginning but ultimately gave up in helping him. So he slept at the castle, and at the crack of dawn, he was running out of there, waiting for Dean at their spot. 

 

Now, Dean still had a family that hadn’t betrayed him (yet), and he had a job, so Castiel still spent so much time alone. Time stewing over the curse, his mind begging him to accept it so he could enjoy these last days with the man he loved. 

 

But Dean’s face brought him back to defiance every time. Goddamn, Free Will was hard. 

 

Castiel didn’t tell Dean; not because he was afraid of the curse, but because he was afraid Dean would leave him. And all he wanted was to spend his last days with the person who made him happiest. Was that selfish?

 

He’d tell him. Eventually. It wouldn’t be fair of him not to. 

 

Dean had to leave earlier today, his father had been getting home earlier and earlier, and the older Winchester brother didn’t want anything to happen to his little brother. But they were going to meet later tonight, and Castiel was going to tell him. He had to.

 

He was out of time.

 

Walking back from the river, he shook his wet hands dry. Being cold hurt at night, where the wind stung the drying parts of his hands. Castiel thought that it was the best way to freshen himself up to… prepare himself for the conversation. 

 

Humming as he walked, he tried to ignore the birds tweeting at him, assumingly trying to join in on a song never sung before. Little did he know it was a warning. 

 

There was a dark silhouette already there when he arrived, surprising the prince. Dean had told him ten o’clock and surely it wasn’t that time yet.

 

“Hey,” Dean said, although it was a little less…  _ Dean _ -like.

 

So much was already going through Castiel’s mind, from the event that would take place by this time tomorrow, to Dean’s possible reaction, causing his hands to shake. The last thing he was worried about was Dean lurking in the shadows, hiding his bright smile and beautiful eyes that looked upon Castiel lovingly. 

 

“Hey, Dean,” he rubbed the back of his neck, every inch of his willpower working to not make Castiel sound sheepish. It wasn’t enough. 

 

The hunter went to take a step forward when Castiel realised how their current positions would make everything easier. For him. 

 

Not seeing Dean’s reaction would spare his heart being stabbed through twice. 

 

“Wait! Don’t move, stay there,” the prince held out his hands, halting the other man in his tracks. “It’ll be easier this way.”  _ It’s easier with five feet between us. _

 

“What’s going on?” Dean’s voice growled from the dark. To Castiel’s ears, it was dripping with concern. 

 

“I’m-”  _ Just take a deep breath. _ “Dean, I’ve been cursed.” 

 

Dean was about to take another step forward but thought better of it. “Excuse me?” he growled again, and not even Castiel could deny the lack of usual softness in Dean’s voice. 

 

“I found out a while ago. When I was a baby, I was cursed to die on my eighteenth birthday at the mercy of an angel blade,” Castiel pushed it out as quick as he could, ashamed for not telling him this sooner, ashamed of what this means for him. 

 

Dean didn’t move. 

 

“But angel blades are a myth, a legend-”

“They used to be real, Chuck banned them after the curse was laid,” the prince shook his head, cutting his lover off. 

 

“No-”

 

“Yeah, Dean. I’m going to- I’m gonna di-” tears started welling up in the prince’s eyes, and he wondered if Dean would still hold him in his arms if he ran to him. 

 

“ _ No _ , he didn’t ban them,” Dean’s voice spoke loud and clear, and Castiel realised it wasn’t Dean’s voice at all. 

 

“He burned them. Melted the metal into a pile and threw it in the ocean, but I’ve got contacts.” The stranger walked into the light of the sunset as he spoke, a glint in his eye not unlike the shine of the blade by his side. 

 

“And for the record, you’ll die ‘Before the First Day of Your Eighteen Year Begins’” the man quotes, smirking as the prince took a stumbling step backwards

 

“How do you-  _ who are you _ ?” Castiel asked with a shaky voice. He knew far too much, surely he couldn’t have-

 

“I’m the one who cursed you, sweetheart,” the man said, slowing his steps until he was stationary. Castiel had been stepping back in perfect time with him, it was pointless by now. But they were both illuminated by the dying pink light. 

 

This was Castiel’s chance. His chance at getting answers, finding out why this happened to him,  _ him _ of all people. The nobody, the middle child. But his eyes hadn’t drifted from the blade in the man’s firm grasp. Sure, his answers were right there, but at what cost?

 

“Why,” Castiel said, his voice betraying him by displaying the small, scared boy inside. “Why,” he tried again. “Why me, why not the heir to the throne, someone…  _ important _ ?” 

 

Chuckling, the man raised the blade a bit higher, into his own field of view, and spun it in his hand. Almost a display of his skills with it. If it was meant to scare Castiel, it did. 

 

“You don’t think you’re important? Well, you are to me,” he had a disgusted look on his face. “It was late, and I was on my way home from the pub. Three old ladies pulled me aside and started pulling all this, hoodoo-voodoo shit in front of me, showing my future. Showing me a world where my soon to be born son was a  _ faggot _ .” the man spat, anger behind his eyes.

 

“Showing me a world where I was behind bars for doing God’s work and ending the so-called love between my son and another man,”

 

_ No.  _

 

_ It couldn’t be. _

 

_ Could it?  _

 

Castiel had never seen the man before, but he knew. He knew who it was. But he wished he didn’t. 

 

“No-” another voice crack.

 

“ _ Yes _ . I begged them for a way to fix it, put the world right and spare my son the pain, and they did. They gave me a verbal curse to be spoken once, ending any hope of it happening. Guess it was left a little late, perhaps, so now I’m taking matters into my own hands,” the growl was deeper, with no reason to hide who he is anymore. 

 

“But there is a way to reverse it!” Castiel took another sub-step back. “With a True Love’s kiss!” He pleaded, holding onto the small shred of hope he had left.

 

Another hearty laugh. “You think, you  _ actually believe _ that someone is going give you a tender kiss, and reverse dark magic? Please,” 

 

His heart hurt. 

 

“Even so, who's to say that, mystery person isn’t going to be alive for another hundred years, long after everyone you know is  _ dead _ ,”

 

His heart  _ hurt _ . 

 

“So let’s stop prolonging the inevitable, and get this over with,” he raised the blade in a battle position, and a gut feeling told Castiel that his attacker would enjoy every second of this. 

 

He ran. He sprinted in the opposite direction. It was his only chance, his last hope at free will that was almost lost from his grasp. 

 

Holding onto the fact that he still never told Dean goodbye, he sprinted off into the night, not even looking back to see his attacker still stationary. 

 

“You can’t run forever, little prince,” he called out, making Castiel’s blood run cold. “You’ll tire eventually, and when you do, your eyes will close forever,”

 

The deep laugh echoed throughout the woods, and a new figure stepped behind the man, confusion written all over his face.

 

“Dad?”

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the long wait!! thanks for reading!!!! let me know what you think of this/what will happen next? keep smiling! <3
> 
> THIS IS THE SUMMARY OF THE CHAPTER IF YOU WISHED TO SKIP OVER THE SLUR
> 
> cas meets dean at their usual spot, with the intension of telling him the truth. bUt it isn't dean, its the person who cursed cas!!!  
> we find out that it was because he saw a vision of his son with cas, being ~gay~ (oh no amirite)  
> big surprise there, it was John all along. cas runs off in fear, and it turns out dean heard part of the conversation. Note: john has an angel blade on him in this scene, and has used magic, possibly hinting that he might use it again.


End file.
